Chapter Twenty-Five
Julien
When I got my hands on Mia, I was going to kill her.
The blinking of the message light woke me a little after 6:00 AM. How I slept through her leaving, I had no idea. Well, it went to show how much I trusted the girl. Shaking my head, I tied my shoelaces, loaded and tucked my new revolver into the back of my jeans and went downstairs.
“I’m David Sullivan. I had a message someone had left a package for me?”
“Yes, Mr. Sullivan. Just a moment.” The agent went to the back office and quickly returned with a large envelope. I turned away and tore it open, finding my passport and wallet inside. Nothing else, no note, no thank you, no sorry, no… nothing.
“Were you here when this was left?”
“Yes, sir. She asked that we not disturb you for an hour. I hope it wasn’t too early.”
“Where did she go?”
“Oh, I don’t know, sir. Perhaps the bellhop might remember.” He raised a hand, calling toward the front doors. “Vincent?”
The bellhop came over. “A young woman from about an hour ago? Dark hair, attractive? Do you remember her?”
“Oh. Yes, sir. I remember.”
“Where was she going?” I asked, irritated by the slow response.
“That I don’t know. She didn’t say much to me, I’m afraid.”
Crap.
“Did she take a taxi? Perhaps you can call and find out where they were headed?” I suggested.
He shook his head. “No, sir. She walked off and I saw her climb into a taxi down the street.”
“Which way? Do you remember the direction the taxi took?”
She’d purposely not taken a taxi from the hotel.
“Yes, sir.” He pointed. That was all I got — an idiot pointing the way.
Well, there were three possibilities: the cemetery, Allison’s house, or the attorney’s office. Sadly, I couldn’t be in three places at once. The attorney’s office was too early, but either of the other two were possibilities.
“Sir, would you like a taxi?”
“No. You have a rental car office on site?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t open for another two hours.”
“Shit!”
Three guests walked in then, all men dressed in business suits looking like they were going to a meeting.
“Sir,” the front office manager said, taking me aside. “You need a vehicle to rent?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get the paperwork filled out and we’ll put the charges on the card you left for the room. You can get your car and take care of your business.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I guessed he wanted to get me out of there. Well, that was fine by me. I followed him to the counter, filled out as much of the paperwork as was absolutely required, took the keys, and found my car: a fucking Ford Taurus.
“Nothing faster?” I asked him.
“No, sir, I’m afraid not.”
“All right. Thank you.”
I left, peeling out of the lot more quickly than they probably liked, and headed in the direction of the cemetery. I hoped it was early enough that there wouldn’t be many visitors. I knew the address, but the lot was quite large and I didn’t know the plot of land where Mia’s sister’s memorial was. I hoped the taxi driver at least drove more slowly than I did, buying me a little time.
Arriving at the cemetery, I saw several taxis as I navigated the lanes — but none of them contained Mia. I followed the road through the entire place, but about a half hour in, I decided this was like searching for a needle in a haystack and drove back out.
That was when I finally spotted her climbing into a cab.
I slowed the car, putting the sun visor down in the hopes she wouldn’t see me. She carried the backpack and looked to be drying her eyes. The taxi drove slowly out of the cemetery and I followed, more relieved than I had imagined I would be. She was so naïve to do this on her own. What the hell had she been thinking? Especially after my confession of the night before.
But maybe that was just it. Maybe in her mind, she was keeping me safe from them by going alone.
Christ. Once we got through this, I was going to spank that little ass of hers and I was going to enjoy every second of it.
I knew where she was headed. She was going to see Allison. I still wasn’t convinced of Allison’s motives but had a feeling the one who’d ratted us out to Samuel St. Rose was the same person who’d sent the assassins after us in that little village. I didn’t trust her. She was a St. Rose, and blood was blood.
Allison lived in Germantown, a posh neighborhood on the outskirts of Philadelphia. I parked down the street and watched as the taxi came to a stop and Mia climbed out, saying something to the man. The taxi waited there for her as she walked up toward the front porch and rang the doorbell. Allison answered within a few minutes and although I was too far to see facial expressions, I did see Allison pull her in for a big hug. Soon though, they appeared to argue about something before Mia walked back to the taxi, slipped some bills to the man from the window and let him go. So, they’d been arguing about that. Well, Allison seemed to have won that one.
I settled in to my uncomfortable rental and decided to wait. It wasn’t long before I knew just whose side Allison was on.